


One Shoe

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Category: Red Shoes and the 7 Dwarfs (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Gen, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25602814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: What if Snow only had enough time to grab one shoe from the apple tree before fleeing from her evil stepmother on a stolen broom?
Relationships: Snow White/Hans
Comments: 19
Kudos: 76





	One Shoe

* * *

She flies as if the demons of hell are on her tail, which they very well might as be. Snow has no idea what powers her stepmother, the witch Regina has, other than the fact that she can grow a silver tree that makes shoes out of apples. 

And the fact that Regina makes people disappear. Such as Snow’s father. Such as almost all of the court, and a lot of the kingdom. 

There’s a lot of things Snow doesn’t know, and it makes her fly faster on her stolen broom, her heart rabbiting in her chest like it wants to burst out of it. She knows roughly what direction the legendary heroes the Fearless Seven live, at the top of Risky Rock. The blue and white castle on top of the hill is easy to spot, and she turns the broom in that direction. 

Only to realise at the very last moment that she doesn’t know how to stop.

* * *

One of the best things she likes about her body is the fact that she is strong. Strong enough to pull herself out of the trench she had dug with her impact, and strong enough to pull the broom out of the tree and take it with her to the home of the Fearless Seven. 

There’s no answer when she knocks on the door, but it swings open at her touch, and she places a hesitant foot inside, raising her voice to call. “Hello-? Hello? Is anyone here?” 

She doesn’t want to be rude and invade their space, but Snow doesn’t want to linger outside, in case Regina has spies. Between propriety and safety, there’s very little debate to be had, and she steps in, closing the door behind her. 

It smells like guards house, lots of bodies housed in a enclosed location, making her nose wrinkle a little bit. Some of the court ladies talked on and on about ‘masculine musk’, but really it just smells like feet in here. 

Another scent catches her attention, something out of place to the rest of the warrior’s house. Something… sweet.

Her stomach rumbles, reminding her that she hasn’t had a chance to eat much of anything for days, trying to figure out the best way to climb the now isolated tower that was once her father’s office. It hadn’t been an easy either. 

As if pulled by a magical spell, she finds herself in the kitchen. Laid out before her is a dazzling array of baked goods. Cakes and donuts and eclairs and…

A few won’t be missed, hopefully. She grabs a slice of cake and a donut, walking back to the front room. The baked goods melt on her tongue, who ever made these far surpasses anything she’d ever eaten in the castle, and she makes a note to ask them where they got it. Papa would love this cake. 

When she finds him again, anyway. 

The cake suddenly feels like lead in her stomach as she looks above the fireplace, at a painting of the seven warriors, standing triumphantly. She hopes the Fearless Seven can help. It’s been ages since anyone was willing to talk to her, much less offer aid. 

She’s always been a strong girl, both inside and out, as Papa used to say. And there’s drawbacks to that. When you’re strong, people often don’t think you need help, even when you do. 

A loud noise makes her jump as the front door bursts open. Snow turns, realising that she’s standing there with pastries in both hands as a sea of small green men growl at her furiously. “Who are you!?” The one in front, dressed in blue demands. 

“I’m… I’m Snow White.” She blurts out. 

“The Princess?” One of the small green men straighten up, the blond one, staring at her in shock. 

Snow nods. “I’m looking for my father. Can you-”

“NO!” Several of the men shout, making her startle and jump back. It’s just enough that she misses the strike of the the small green man behind her that she hadn’t seen. He overbalances and starts to fall off the shelf he was standing on. 

Snow grabs him, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him towards her torso, trying not to get the cake she’s holding in both hands over him. 

Green eyes stare at her her in awe. “... Hi.” The green man says, his voice cracking a little. He clears his throat, talking in a hushed whisper. "You're very strong."

The way he says it, it doesn't sound like a bad thing.

“Hi.” She smiles back, a little crookedly in disbelief that she managed to get him without dropping anything. 

“Don’t. Hit. The Princess.” The largest of the little men growls, rising to his impressive knee-high height. 

“I would NEVER-” The red-head she’s holding in her arms starts, then awkwardly trails off. “Well. Not knowingly. We thought you were a witch.” He mumbles, looking apologetic. 

“It’s okay. I’m the one who broke into your house, I should be the one apologising.” Snow grimaces, then kneels to let him down. She waits until he’s got both feet on the floor before removing her arm around him. He leans into the gesture a bit before straightening. 

The red-head stops and stares at her hands. “You like my cake?” He questions, looking between her and the cake in her hands. 

“I love it. It really is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” She admits. There’s one mission accomplished, she’s found the mystery baker. “You’re very talented.” 

Some one makes a scoffing noise in the background, and she ignores it. She’s used to comments about how much or how little she eats and has learned to tune them out. 

He blushes, looking shy suddenly. “Thank you.” 

Her stomach growls loudly, and she grimaces. “Sorry. I haven’t had a lot to eat lately.” The kitchens have been empty for the past week, both the cook and the servants having either disappeared or run off, leaving an empty larder behind. She can’t entirely blame them, although she wishes they’d left something behind that she could have eaten. 

“I can whip up something simple for you?” The red-head offers with an eagerness that sort of surprises her. “I have a marinade-”

“Perhaps ze Princess can explain what she is doing here while you cook?” The blond pipes up. “Two birds, one stone, _sais quoi_?” 

“Right.” The dark haired man steps forward. Their leader, Snow assumes from the way that the rest of the green men follow his lead, motioning her deeper into the house. “This way.” 

The red-head pats her hand with a grin before heading to the kitchen. “Keep the cake.”

* * *

“So you’re the F7, underneath a curse?” Snow looks around the table at the little men. Dwarves, they had said, which makes as much sense as ‘little green men’. She’s never met dwarves before to know what they looked like. 

One thing for sure, it’s not the introduction she imagined in her head. 

“It can only be broken by a kiss by the ‘Most Beautiful Woman in the World’.” Arthur, the one in orange says while flexing his muscles. 

Merlin rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Where are we supposed to find _that_?” He mutters, giving her the side eye. 

It stings, a little bit. She knows most people don’t find her beautiful. She’s heard it all while growing up. Not dainty enough. Not graceful enough. Not _thin_ enough. 

But the people who matter are the ones who look at her and see _her_ , not their own image of what she should be because her father is a ruler. 

“Just because someone is beautiful doesn’t make them a Princess.” Snow points out. She would have thought they learned that lesson from the Fairy Princess who had cursed them. “Just like someone not being beautiful doesn’t automatically make them a witch.” 

The blonde and the triplets nod, looking contemplative. Neither Arthur or Merlin look impressed, and she wonders if that’s going to make it more difficult to get their assistance. 

“There’s more to being a Princess than beauty.” Snow adds, putting a single red high heeled shoe on the table. “Being a princess means taking care of your people and lands. It’s a lot of hard work and responsibility.” 

Responsibility she wasn’t ready for, taking care of an entire kingdom. “That’s why I need your help finding my father.” 

“King White.” Merlin looks interested for the first time, staring at the shoe. 

“My… Stepmother is beautiful. Was beautiful.” Snow takes a deep breath and lets it out, her nerves coming back. “So beautiful my father took one look at her and made her his queen. But she’s actually an evil witch.” 

“Oooh.” The triplets look at each other, then nod in her direction before speaking, trading off words. 

“Beauty-”

“-Doesn’t equal-”

“Virtue.” 

Snow nods. “She’s horrid. People have been disappearing since she showed up, I don’t know where most of the castle staff are. I broke into my father’s study to see if I could find anything and found his journal, confirming Regina is a witch.” 

“Did it say anything else?” Merlin inquires, gaze sharp. 

“Apples.” Snow says heavily. “The most Suspicious of Fruits.” 

Silence follows. 

“That’s it-?” Arthur scoffs, looking around the table as if expecting them to start laughing as well. No one does. 

“It was the last thing in his diary.” Snow looks down at the table. “There’s silver apple tree in the middle of his office now. It was growing two beautiful red apples. As I watched, the apples turned into shoes. I grabbed this one just as Regina arrived, and escaped on the broom stick.” 

“May I?” Merlin leans over, his hand hovering over the red shoe. Snow nods and he picks it up, inspecting it with a serious expression. He even licks it, looking contemplative for a moment, before making a perplexed face. “Tastes like apple peel.” 

It makes her laugh, just a little bit. 

“Do you know what it does?” Merlin inquires, closing one eye and tilting his head to the side as he examines the heel, where it had been attached to the branch. 

“I think…” She closes her eyes, trying to remember Regina’s screams as she’d run from the three bears. “Something to do with her beauty? I think? She’s… aged. Looks more like an old crone now.” 

Merlin nods like this is a foregone conclusion, and it makes her wonder about the price of magic use. Does he look like a crone too when he's not a little green dwarf? "This enchantment most likely requires both shoes to work, it can't do anything by itself." He looks annoyed as he puts the shoe down, then turns to her. “Anything else unusual in the castle?” 

“She has a mirror?” Snow offers, and Jack looks up from his own little hand held mirror with interest. “It’s huge, as tall as I am and attached to a moving tree. I’ve seen her talk to it before. It talks back.” 

“Magic Mirror. Moving Tree. Enchanted Apples.” Merlin muses, tapping his fingers on his lips. “I might have to do some reading.” 

“In the meantime.” She can’t help but to bright up a bit at the sound of Hans’ voice, and at the plate he was carrying. “Let’s get you fed.” 

Merlin rolls his eyes. “I’ll be in my room, doing research.” He mutters, sliding out of the chair and stomping off. 

She doesn’t miss his presence, her stomach growls as she looks at the dish. She’s never seen it before, some sort of roasted meat in a gravy with what look like patties made of shredded potato on the side, and a bit of leafy greens for colour. 

“Is _Sauerbraten_ marinated meat with _Kartoffelpuffer_ , potato pancakes, on the side.” Hans practically sings, looking delighted. “Is a common dish from mein childhood.” 

Snow tries a bite, and moans as the flavours hit her tongue, the gravy thick and rich in flavour as the meat practically falls apart it’s so soft and tender. “This is amazing!” She enthuses and is delighted to watch his face light up. 

Her heart gives a little silly thump. She could fall in love with a smile like that. 

“Eat up.” Hans beams at her. “Got to keep your strength up for fighting witches.”

* * *

“You don’t have to help me wash up!” Hans protests. 

“You cooked, it’s only fair.” Snow ties the apron that was next to the door around her waist. “Besides, it’s not like I’m unused to it.”

“Eh?” He looks surprised. 

“Part of running a castle is knowing how everything works and being able to step in to help where you can.” Snow shrugs. “I wash my own dishes if I cook for myself, and before people started disappearing, I’d help out with the castle dishes probably every other week.” 

Washing her own dishes wasn’t much fun, but with everyone talking and singing in the kitchen, it wasn’t such a horrid chore. Sometimes she’d come down to the kitchen and help polish the silver while talking with everyone. It gave her some time away from the court gossip and gave her something useful to do with her hands. 

The cook often advantage of Snow’s strength too, using her to help move the bags of vegetables that showed up. It was a good workout and Snow loved to help.

“Huh.” Hans looks surprised, then seems to make up his mind, scurrying off to the side and dragging a stool back over to the sink. “Alright then. I won’t say no.” He says, climbing up on top of the stool with a practical air that shouldn’t be so endearing. 

“I’ll wash, you dry?” She offers, grabbing the handle of the pump and beginning to pull the water up. She doesn’t know where everything in the kitchen was, and Chef had always been particular that everything was in it’s proper place. 

“Deal.” He nods, leaning over the sink and grabbing the soap, handing her the bar. 

“Where did you learn to cook anyway?” Snow asks as the sink begins to fill up. 

“You are, ah… Aware of my ‘heroic origin story’-?” He ventures. 

“Hansel and Gretel, right? You and your sister were taken by a witch, if I remember correctly.” She'd never paid that much attention to the Fearless Seven’s origins really, none of the guys really interested her. But Hans’ is the only one who got the start of his reputation by killing a witch as a child. Which had been the other reason than her father’s journal to track down the Fearless Seven in the first place. 

“ _Ja._ ” He nods. “She had us in a cage and was fattening us up to eat us. Lean meat is no good, she was going to get us nice and plump before slow cooking us at a low temperature until the meat fell off our bones.” 

Hans pauses, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, as if gauging if he’d said too much. She nods and starts scrubbing a bowl in the sink, passing it to him once it was rinsed off. He takes the bowl and started drying it, picking up the story again. 

“The witch was blind, and would check our arms every day to see if we were plump enough yet, and we offered her a bone to feel instead. Eventually she grew weary of waiting for us to be fat enough and had Gretel start the fire in the oven.” He smiled. “But mein sister is smart, and faked not knowing if the oven was hot enough.” 

Snow recognises the story now. “And when the witch bent over-”

“I pushed her in.” Hans’ chest puffs up a bit, looking proud. “Gretel closed the door. The witch, she scream and screamed, but eventually she was gone. And then we not only safe, we had the house, and the fortune hidden inside too.” 

He pauses, expression turning pensive. “The reason the witch got us was because we were poor and did not have enough to eat. _Mutter_ convinced _Vater_ to take us to the woods and leave us there. Three times he did. Twice we were sneaky and found our way back.” 

The third time, the witch found them. 

“The witch’s food was the most delicious we’d ever tasted.” Hans’ voice is soft and he seems to be looking at someplace far away. “What would we do if we returned home anyway? Give _Mutter und Vader_ a fortune after they abandoned us? No. We were smart, we could take care of ourselves. We had her cookbooks and supplies, we learned to cook and to bake.” 

“Eventually our story got out and people started showed up asking for help with their witches. I left to fight, but Gretel lives there still.” He gives her a shy smile. “She bakes and sells the pastries in town. Her skills puts mine to shame.” 

“I’d love to meet her.” Snow says honestly. Anyone who could help defeat a witch sounded like someone she wanted to know better. 

“I’d love to introduce you.” He beams at her, like she’d just given him a gift. “She’s nearly as beautiful as you are.” 

Snow nearly drops the dish in her hands, her heart plummeting. “I’m not.” She’s heard it often enough, she knows what she looks like in a mirror. Well, a magic, non talking mirror. 

“You are kind.” Hans rests a hand on her arm, coaxing her to look at him, radiating sincerity. “You are smart enough to realise something is wrong and to seek help. You are strong. To me, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.” 

After years of whispers at the court, she’s learned to spot when someone is faking it, which he’s not. He believes it, every single word he’s saying. She finds herself blushing, butterflies filling up her stomach. 

Lots of people have flattered her, she’s the _princess_ , but Hans is the first person other than her father who actually means it. This brave, strong, kind man means it. 

“Thank you.” She whispers, unable to speak louder, lest her voice break. Snow tucks her hair behind her ear, feeling both bold and shy at the same time. 

Bold enough to lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. He stares at her with wide eyes, an incredibly cute blush creeping across his cheeks. 

And then suddenly the room is suddenly full of light. She can hear Hans make a startled noise, not quite a scream, and the sound of the stool falling. For the second time this evening, Snow grabs him before he can fall down and hit the ground. 

When the light fades, she’s holding a lanky red-headed man in her arms, one around his shoulders, the other under his knees. 

“Hans?” She ventures, staring at him in shock. 

It’s the same startled green eyes that he’d had seconds before staring back at her from underneath a mop of messy red curls. His features are similar as well. Just… Human. 

His mouth moves, but no sound comes out. 

“You’re very light.” She comments, unable to think of anything witty to say. He laughs, looking at her fondly, and she finds herself smiling back. 

There’s the sound of footsteps, and they look up to see the rest of the cursed Fearless Seven piling into the doorway and staring at them, jaws on the floor. 

“Um.” 

“ **HOW?!** ” Arthur rages, waving his arms at them. Merlin looks similarly in a strop, while the other four appear to be kind of pleased for them. 

They’re saved from answering as a giant wooden bunny attacks the house.

* * *

After that, it’s nearly anticlimactic. 

The bunny is easily distracted with carrots. The triplets Pino, Noki, and Kio have a giant mechanical wooden puppet that they operate from the inside, and Merlin points out that the simplest answer may be to defeat the witch before looking for her father. 

The broomstick she’d brought with her is strong enough to carry not only the puppet, but everyone else as well as they head straight for the castle, the bunny following them on the ground. 

Hans rides behind her on the broomstick, one arm looped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder, and she feels giddy, like she could fly without the broomstick. 

Regina doesn’t stand a chance against the Fearless Seven, who look like they should be called the _Furious_ Seven. Merlin especially goes after the other magic user with a vendetta. The triplets and Arthur go after the tree’s branches as Jack smashes the mirror with a gigantic diamond ring, and Snow sends Regina over the edge of the tower with a well placed hit with Hans’ pan, that doubles as both a shield and a club. 

She kind of wants one of her own. 

Regina and the mirror gone, the magic vines begin to disappear, and people begin reappearing. Not as many as Snow would have liked. There’s a lot of people who are gone, most likely dead, and killing Regina doesn’t bring them back. 

She’s afraid that her father might have been one of those when the bunny reappears and transforms back into King White. 

Hans is blushing as she introduces him to her father, explaining that the Fearless Seven had been under a curse, Hans included until she kissed him. 

“Snow.” Papa frowns at her. “You’re a **Princess**. You can’t go around kissing random men.”

“What if I just kissed him?” Snow asks, hesitantly threading her fingers through Hans. He startles, then melts, giving her hand a squeeze. They both have calluses on their hands, that slot together like puzzle pieces. “Every day? For the rest of our lives?” 

“I promise to do the same.” Hans offers.

“... Oh.” Papa blinks, then shakes his head with a small smile, looking pleased. “Well. That’s another story then.” 

And it is.

* * *

The Fearless Seven disband after that. 

Pino, Noki, and Kio stay and help them rebuild the Castle. They don’t seem to mind their small forms, finding it easier to pilot their creations at half their previous height. 

Jack, Merlin, and Arthur leave after her and Hans’ wedding, now that they know how to break their curse. That the answer is to find someone who is beautiful because they love them, not because of physical beauty. She and Hans wishes them luck in their quest, Merlin especially. 

According to Hans, Merlin used to be the prettiest of the seven and the curse hit him the hardest of all. 

Snow does get to meet Hans’ sister. She’s as tall as Hans, but as wide as Snow, with a cheerful infectious smile, and arms that are big and strong from carrying flour sacks and kneading dough. Snow loves her immediately, the two of them becoming fast friends, much to Hans’ delight. 

And Hans was right, Gretel’s a better baker than he is. King White proposes to her the first time he tries one of her crepe cakes, Gretel laughing as she turns him down, and they make jokes about King White having a thing for red-heads.

Gretel does stay in the castle with them though, and they all live happily ever after. 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> _Saw Red-Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs, then watched it again the next day with friends because I enjoyed it so much. And then made the mistake of commenting to my brother, EastoftheMoon, and Gullwhacker that Snow would have been better off dating Hans._   
>  _And thus fic was born out of speculation and sleep deprivation. This is meant on my part kind of a crack-au, not to be taken seriously, but I do apologise to the Snow/Merlin shippers, given how little fic there is in this fandom._


End file.
